Cannibal
by missaphhungary
Summary: "Natalya? Natalya?" Alfred frowned as he took a quick look at the area behind him. "Go on, idiot country..." Natalya mumbled with a tiny smile. Alfred spotted her at once, kneeled over with a bullet in her spine, her dress soaked with blood. "Take Fighter Girl and make me proud." (AU, Post-apocalypse, er... Rated T for Blood, Cannibalism, all that good stuff) (NOT AMEBEL)
1. Chapter 1

Hello! This is my first attempt at a story :3 Hope you enjoy! Sorry if Alfred is a little OOC, this is my first time writing him and I think he would be a little more serious in this situation...

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Alfred's fingers moved frantically over the keyboard, sweat dripping down his face as his blue eyes narrowed in concentration. A huge screen sat in front of him, red dots going berserk and flashing all over what looked like a giant world map. He took a quick sip of water, feeling his face burn and turn red with potential tears. Alfred slammed his fist down on the keyboard, making an enraged noise of frustration.

A robotic voice started up, the sound echoing around the small, dark room.

"Error. Error. Command "GHJYHMF" is not reconized." The computer read in a monotone.

"Do you think I fucking care?! I-" Alfred shouted at the computer, but then cut himself off as a few giant green dots appeared on the screen. Masses that covered entire countries.

"Warning." A siren started to sound, but not in the tiny room that Alfred was stuck in, although he heard it easily. As the giant green dots on the screen slowly turned yellow, then orange, Alfred's pupils shrunk in fear.

"O-Open the Address Book!" He mumbled quickly. The machine didn't catch his command and remained inactive. "I said, OPEN THE FUCKING ADDRESS BOOK!"

"Command registered." In a corner of the screen, a small window opened up. Alfred hurriedly clicked on the "Friends" tab, in which he clicked the first name and began to type frantically, his message devoid of any sort of grammar or punctuation.

Quickly, there's another one coming get as far underground as you can there's no time! -America

Immediately after sending it, a siren started to sound as the blobs on the screen turned a light orange-red but quickly got darker.

"Yes?" Alfred heard his line ring and he quickly tapped into the intercom. He needed to sound calm, even though he knew this might be his last minute. The people would panic if he panicked for real. He could only pray he was deep enough underground. As the line sputtered, he drafted another quick message to the next two people, but didn't get time to send the last one.

"Sir, sir, there's a-" A female officer started to speak, but the intercom cut off into static and a steady, endless hum as everything became eerily silent for a second.

"God-fucking-dammit-" Alfred almost dove under the table as the screen turned blood red and a huge rumble shook the earth. Suddenly the room got very, very hot, remarkably similar to an oven. "God, if this is it, I have to say, you did a right good job protecting me." He muttered sarcastically as he reflected over the last month or so.

-x-

It had all started with a minor heat wave. Nothing to worry about, but the thing that made it stand out was that it covered so much of the earth. Even if just for a few days, it seemed to catch everyone's attention. Soon The Heat would come in waves, vicious and unyielding, but small enough where to would only cover a town of two and last only an hour or so. It would sink deep into the soil, melting stone and roads and eventually buildings, killing off plants and crops. The earth was burning, completely aflame.

Then came the winds.

Crushing winds that grew increasingly worse as they continued. Winds that cut off signals for days and days until they stopped, only to bring The Heat again. What The Heat didn't ruin, the pure force of the wind ruined, crushing things completely into the ground. In every country, resources started to grow thin, and people were constantly dying or getting sick of heat stroke. Many relocated underground, but to no avail. Only official military bunkers could possibly be protected, and that was not an option for the billions of people all around the world.

Every single country was affected by it, but it wasn't seen as something to be bonding on- even the closest of countries were fighting and turning against each other in what had become a sick game of survival of the fittest. Raids, pillages and bombings were not uncommon, and you couldn't trust anyone. In fact, a lot of people Alfred cared about were missing or dead…

The Heat had gotten so bad that it lashed out for seconds at a time, similar to lightning, white and hot and blinding and furious, burning cities to the ground. The winds that came were no longer "winds," seeing as they crushed everything that wasn't burned flat, and the forces from the falling buildings caused earthquakes and avalanches that reverberated far into the ground.

In the winter, there was no relief. The Heat was gone, but in it's place was a crippling cold. Cold that you could only spend maybe a minute in if you were particularly resilient. The only sources of water, no matter how guarded, turned into solid ice, and there was no food to eat, seeing as what was left of plant life also died in the cold.

The only scientific guess on what The Heat might be was that it was a particularly vicious type of solar flare, but that was hardly believable. Not with the cold. Not with the death, the way it lashed out on the earth.

-x-

Alfred squeezed his eyes shut as the ground shook with rumble after rumble and that heat became nearly unbearable.

Think, he thought. Find something to distract yourself.

The first countries to go, nearly a month ago, were Sealand and Canada. England had made quick work of destroying Sealand entirely without mercy, and France had invaded Canada without warning. Canada was also suffering from a food shortage before the first heat came, and the country died out quickly. No one had heard from Matthew since, so he was as good as dead.

Shit.

Tears formed at the corners of his eyes. Matthew. He was gone, and his country completely taken over. When Alfred had found out, he swore three things to himself: One, that that would never happen to his country, two, that he would never forgive Francis, and two, that he would find Matthew if it killed him.

He's not dead, I know it...I can't die now! I have to find Matthew!

Sweat was pouring down Alfred's face now. It had been hot before, but nothing compared to this. The air was thick and sweltering, hardly breathable. He took deep gasps, drinking in as much oxygen as possible.

A rattle.

Plaster dust starts to float down from the ceiling.

The keyboard falls off the table, but the computer holds it suspended in mid-air off the side. It swings back and forth silently, the cord slowly wearing thin.

Another giant rumble.

The computer is thrown from the desk and hits the wall by the doorway with a cacophony of shatters.

More plaster dust.

There was a frantic pound on the door, and a loosely feminine voice that yelled something from the other side.

That caught Alfred's attention, and he drew his gun, but crawled over to the steel door anyways as curiosity got the better of him.

"Who is it?" He shouted above the shaking of the earth and the metal legs of the table starting to sag a little from the heat.

"General W-Winchester, sir? Is that you?"

Alfred's eyes narrowed, his breathing shallow as he brought up his shirt to try and filter the air.

"Prove your identity!"

"..." There was a pause, in which no one spoke and once again, the world became eerily quiet once again.

"...Sir, I have no way of proving my identity. What sort of test would you want?"

Alfred realized that he was beat. If it proved to be an attacker, he was a fast shooter, so he could probably kill them before they killed him, but attackers were rarely so honest. "Fine, come in." He said quietly, but his words were drowned out by another rumble. The broken computer screen lit up, all red. Alfred paid little attention as it started to repeat "Error. Error. Error." many times in a row.

He threw open the door. Standing outside was a ragged-looking girl in an camouflage American Military suit with shoulder-length brown hair tied into a ponytail and her grey eyes wide with fear as she almost sprinted inside and bolted it behind her. At her feet was a black and grey cat, looking under-nourished and skittish.

"You have a fucking cat." Alfred said in disbelief.

"Y-Yeah, what about him, sir?" General Winchester asked rather defensively.

"How do you manage to keep that thing alive?"

"Love. And going hungry."

"Alright, whatever." Alfred fanned himself with a hand, but it didn't make him any cooler. The table was slowly sinking. The computer was blaring with constant "Error!"'s, and the cat mewled rather loudly. "And you've never considered eating the cat?"

"Ew, I could never. Sir."

"It's the end of the world and you're calling me sir? Still?"

"Eh." General Winchester blew it off and shrugged.

It had been quiet for about a minute now, and other than them speaking and the computer, there was no earth-shattering rumbles, and the siren was gone. General Winchester turned towards the door, and in doing so, Alfred saw a few long gashes in her back.

"Hey," He said suddenly. "Where are those from?"

"What from?"

"The wounds. On your back."

"..." General Winchester stayed silent for a moment and then turned back around. "Attackers," She said softly. "I tried to talk to you about it, but it got cut off. They had a type of sword that reminded me of a katana, but they all died when this...wave started." She paused a little before continuing. "And then I rushed down here."

"How did you know about this place?" Alfred demanded, a slight edge to his voice. The entrance to the room was in an abandoned supply closet on the deepest floor of the Military Base, and the door opened to at least 20 flights of thin metal stairs going down until you got to the actual door. It was cramped and narrow, and nobody but Alfred knew about it.

"I found it a few months ago, during the first heat. I was looking for somewhere to hide, and I was hiding in the supply closet. When we were allowed to leave, I turned to go out the door, but it turned out to be the door to your bunker-thing, and not the door to the hallway." She admitted.

The temperature in the room started to cool a little, but it still remained overheated. Alfred burst into a coughing fit, having breathed in one too many deep breaths of the plaster-filled air.

"Sir, you okay?"

"D-Don't call- me sir-" Alfred coughed out. His lungs felt dry and he felt nauseous. "What's your name?"

"I'm Emma, and this is Wifi. Aw, Wifi, no need to- Here, come to mama." Emma picked up the cat and stroked it lovingly. Her eyes were a steely grey, full of determination and hope and something else he didn't recognize.

"You really like that cat, huh." Alfred sighed and twisted the handle to the bunker door. The hot metal dipped slightly at his firm grip, but it wasn't hot enough to burn him.

He held his gun at the ready again and swept the stairwell. "Alright, Gener-Emma, have your gun at the ready."

Emma put Wifi down and pulled her rifle out. "Sir? There may have been something I forgot to mention."

"Yes?"

"The attackers were Japanese Cannibals."


	2. Chapter 2

"Japanese Cannibals." Alfred repeated slowly. "In my country."

"Yeah, I can only assume Mr. Japan sent them. They were highly skilled. We can't assume that all of them are dead, be on your guard." Emma said seriously. "My back is slashed open, and I wouldn't just let them do that."

"I know that," Alfred snapped. "Sorry, that just makes me nervous." His voice dropped to a whisper as he moved forward a few steps and wiped his face with his sweat-soaked shirt before motioning for Emma to follow him as he took off up the steps. Wifi followed behind. It was still scarily hot, with and every step he took towards the surface, it got hotter. Emma's shoulders were tense, and she did a quick sweep of the landing before following Alfred up.

They made it to the Janitor's closet uninterrupted, but the metal stairs, soft from the intense heat, were bending dangerously under their weight as the two started sprinting to get up safely. Alfred threw open the door to the janitor closet and slid inside, Emma and Wifi right after him.

"Euuuugh." Alfred hissed under his breath.

"What's wrong, sir?"

"My foot landed in a bucket of nearly boiling water. Don't worry about it."

"Oh, okay. What now, sir?"

"I-" Suddenly Alfred clapped a hand over Emma's mouth, ducking and using his other hand to force her to the ground. Wifi's mouth was curled into a silent snarl, his eyes glowing in the dark of the closet.

Emma was confused for a split second before she recovered and tensed again, listening closely and ignoring the slight sting of the cuts on her back.

Footsteps.

No one, not even the cat, dared to move. The footsteps were light, almost silent, and they stopped right outside the door.

Lord help us, Emma thought.

A couple of words in Japanese, and whoever it was moved on, though Alfred didn't move. Wifi let out a long, increasingly louder hiss that sounded remotely like compressed steam coming from a crack in a broken exhaust pipe.

"Wifi!" Emma whispered in panic. Alfred didn't make any noise, he just whipped out his pistol as the footsteps came running back.

The door got whipped open, and Wifi almost flew at the person in the doorway with a battle hiss. Alfred started shooting without hesitating. Emma didn't have time to worry about hitting her cat- she followed right after, shooting twice as fast with her rifle. There wasn't even any time for the attacker to return fire- he was dead in seconds, despite the fact that the bullets were softer than usual because of the intense heat.

"Wifi…" Emma frowned, and she crawled forward, looking for her pet. Suddenly Wifi emerged, covered with blood but apparently unharmed as he tossed his head and let out a triumphant mewl. "Wifi!" Emma checked the cat over before she was completely satisfied that he was unharmed.

"Smart cat." Alfred remarked. "It's got a mind of it's own."

"It's a he. And yes, he's smart. Look at this." Emma motioned to the corpse. It was obviously someone of Japanese descent, but something was off. He held an average-sized katana, which Alfred sized up and poked. The pressure from his finger left a mark in the soft, heated metal.

"It's too hot for anything to do any damage here. But damn it's hot." Alfred narrowed his eyes and tried to fan himself again.

"You'll be fine, I assume, sir?"

"I'm fine." He replied grudgingly.

"...Good. We should...We should really try and get to the surface. Despite the heat." Emma nodded at him and took a couple of cautious steps so that she was in plain view, a risky move, but the easy one.

"-And how much training did you go through?" Alfred said sarcastically.

"One year. I took 3 PFT's, genius. Don't you know the requirements for your own army?" Emma snapped, turning around to face Alfred and almost running into him.

"Wow, the training quality must be going down. I'll have to check on the system if they're letting people like you in, let alone to be a general." He smirked. "When you join the Army-"

"There's a reason I got promoted, you little shit-" there was a quiet sound behind them, and Wifi let out a loud hiss, so Emma whipped around and shot whatever had made the sound in hardly a millisecond to protect her precious cat before turning back around and trying to slap Alfred, who caught her wrist before she could, making Alfred laugh a little. "This is bullshit."

Behind her, a piece of paper with a bullet-sized hole in it fell to the ground.

"Glad to know you're awake. At least, your cat is."

"Whatever, sir." Emma sighed dramatically and picked up the piece of paper she had shot. Wifi sniffed it nervously, mewling like a kitten. Alfred explored the corridor, one hand still on his pistol.

Honestly, we didn't have much paper down here, there's hardly any left, She thought loosely, examining it. The paper was thick and coarse, like watercolor paper. Who would take some of it just to-

She froze as she turned it over.

...Words?

The letters were in pencil, hard to make out, but by the end the message was clear.

'They-' first of all, who? Knows…'where we are?' Emma thought through the note with a blank expression.

"Sir…?" Emma realized she hadn't seen Alfred in the last two minutes. "Sir?" There was a strange hush, and Emma looked at Wifi, thought for a moment, and moved her index and middle fingers on both hands in a sort of squiggly line, up and down three times. Wifi immediately darted off silently.

A minute later, Wifi came back, circled around Emma's legs once, and headed off in the direction he had come from. Emma followed him without hesitation.

Wifi lead Emma to a room near the end of the hall. The door was wide open, so the cat halted right right before the doorframe.

Emma brought her index finger down on her palm, and pointed at the door. Wifi didn't react, but dropped into a crouch.

I'm trusting you with this, Wifi…

She readied her gun, bringing it up to her shoulder and narrowing her eyes as she snuck around the corner and into plain sight through the doorway.

Alfred was duck-taped to a chair, angrily struggling against a man who held a pistol Emma recognized as Alfred's to Alfred's head.

"What-" Emma heard a cat hiss from right behind her and narrowly dodged a blow to the head from some sort of club that had barbed wire wrapped around the end. She didn't even bother with shooting- she slammed the butt of her gun down on the man's head with a sickening crack.

"Freeze." The man holding a gun to Alfred's head pushed the hammer down with a small click.

"No," Emma said, bringing her rifle back up to shoulder level and hardly noticing or caring the blood on it.

"I said, freeze!"

Emma didn't pay attention. Alfred was shaking his head and slowly mouthing something.

S...ay...ft...y? Safety...does that mean the safety on the gun is on?

She clicked the safety on her rifle on and off quickly, and Alfred gave her a nod. Just barely, but enough for her to tell that she was correct.

"Put your weapon down."

"No," Emma said again, tensing up and putting a bullet through his head. At the same time, he pulled the trigger, but it didn't fire, just let out a dull click.

He was right, the safety is on!

Alfred breathed a sigh of relief. "They were too fast for me. Do you have anything to cut the tape with?"

"Yes, sir." Emma pulled out a hunting knife and walked over to him, using the serrated part of it to cut through the strong tape.

"Thanks." He rubbed his arms and stood up, prying his gun from the fingers of his captor. "Hey...Where's your cat?"

"Outside. Here." Emma snapped her fingers. "Wifi! Come here, sweetie!"

Wifi trotted in the room, head held high, and his muzzle streaked with blood.

"Er...bloody cat." Alfred muttered.

"Wifi…?" Emma poked her head out of the door, finding an extra corpse on the ground, with bite marks all over the neck and face. "Wow, okay."

"Honestly, that cat is crazy…"

"Whatever. Embrace the psychopathy." Emma retorted sarcastically.

"Damn, and this is the third level. We still have to get through the second and first level." Alfred quickly changed the subject.

"Get over it, sir. We'll make it."

Two hours and lots of tiring fights later, They finally made it to the first floor bunker door, Wifi trailing right behind them.

"Well…" Emma was out of bullets, but she had kept her gun anyways, telling Alfred it could be used to hit people in the head too. "We made it. To the basement of the building, at least."

"Ehn." Alfred made a noncommittal noise and rested his hand on the metal doors. "It's cooling off. A little, at least."

"That's good."

The conversation seemed slow, drawn out, like they were stalling. Scared to see what had happened to the surface.

"Come on." Emma brushed her hair out of her face with one hand. She had taken her short ponytail out a while ago.

"Alright." Alfred took a deep breath and opened the bunker doors.


	3. Chapter 3

The basement of the Military Base was pitch-black. The only thing Emma could see was Wifi, who surveyed the room in a crouch. No one made a sound.

Slowly, Wifi began to advance, his body pressed to the ground. Suddenly Wifi mewled softly, his luminescent green eyes staring at Emma.

Emma noticed this and put both hands out in front of her, then mimed picking something up.

Suddenly, Wifi turned his head away from them and seemed to disappear. His mulch-like black and grey fur blended into the dark, making him nearly invisible in the blackness.

"What-" Alfred put a hand on her shoulder quickly and without warning, startling Emma and making her smack him accord the face and knee him in the groin before he could react, putting him off guard. She realized who it was two seconds later and patted him on the shoulder.

"Don't scare me like that." She whispered.

"Lesson learned." Alfred choked.

Wifi reappeared at Emma's feet, circling around them and heading off again. Emma followed him this time, grabbing Alfred's arm to be sure that he would follow.

They halted at a door. Emma felt around before she found the handle, twisting it open.

The room they were in was dimly lit by some sort of emergency light, but it was lit enough to make both Emma and Alfred smile. It was an emergency supply closet, full of guns,food, ammunition, and other survival needs. There had been a couple of these down in the first floor of the bunker, but they had been ransacked. They had found a fair amount of corpses once they had gotten to the first floor, soldiers and intruders alike, but there was a strange lack of dead in the basement.

"Perfect, although I wouldn't take the canned stuff, it's probably rotten after the heat." Alfred took a backpack and filled it with dehydrated food packets and a couple of water bottles, along with extra ammo. He slipped a knife into the outer pocket and grabbed an army rifle like Emma's. "I like handguns better, but this is fine." He muttered as he weighed it in his hands, bringing it up to his shoulder, and shrugging.

The only bullets in the closet were made for rifles, not for his small but convenient pistol.

"I guess I should get a new gun, too." Emma set her old rifle down and removed another new one from the rack.

"Hey, tell me how you got promoted. And how the army let you keep your cat. We don't allow pets."

"Not now, sir." Emma was stuffing a blanket into her backpack.

"Yes, now."

"Here, have a jacket." She threw him a camouflage insulated jacket.

"It's probably more than a hundred fucking degrees up there and you're telling me to take a coat?"

Emma shrugged. "Best to be prepared, sir."

"I don't need it." Alfred huffed. Emma stuffed it into her backpack anyways, grabbing another hunting knife and looking around.

"Oh, I forgot about Wifi…" She found a few cans of canned tuna and put them into the inside pockets of her coat. "He can handle the bacteria."

"...If you say so."

"Shut up. He's not going to die. He's been useful today, right?"

"That's true." Alfred admitted.

Emma paused, sighing and surveyed her cat, who was currently cleaning himself by rubbing a paw over his muzzle.

"Should we take this emergency radio?" Alfred asked quietly.

"We won't need it. You know that." Emma replied slowly. "There's no one to help us."

"Right," Alfred murmured. After messing with the controls hopelessly for a moment, he found a frequency. The radio buzzed, crackled and popped, but you could just make out the words and melody of a song.

"Sometimes quiet is violent

I find it hard to hide it

My pride is no longer inside

It's on my sleeve

My skin will scream

Reminding me of

Who I killed inside my dream

I hate this car that I'm driving

There's no hiding for me

I'm forced to deal with what I feel

There is no distraction to mask what is real

I could pull the steering wheel

I ponder of something terrifying

'Cause this time there's no sound to hide behind

I find over the course of our human existence

One thing consists of consistence

And it's that we're all battling fear-"

Alfred quickly switched it off. It was too much, the bad-quality radio and it's music. His face contorted as his eyes started to burn with coming tears again.

"I'm sorry, sir…" Emma put a hand on his shoulder. "We'll - You'll survive this, I swear."

"I know." Alfred sighed.

"Alright, let's go." Emma took a flashlight and flicked it on, scoping out the room for a second. A dead weight had fallen on their shoulders and mind, heavy silhouettes of despair. They were tired and their clothes were soaked with sweat.

The basement seemed to be deserted, so Emma walked right over to the staircase that lead up, only to notice it was starting to get cold. At least, cold compared to the usual intense heat.

"Now it's cold!" Alfred said in a whiny voice.

"Toughen up, soldier." Emma replied dryly. "After about a year of this, I would think that the most powerful nation in the world would have gotten used to the apocalypse."

"Hey, don't be so grim."

"Now, excuse me if I sound rude, but I don't see on your wavelength. I won't live forever if we survive this. And I don't see me surviving this. No matter how long me and my cat spent training for war, no matter how long I've been starving myself to keep this cat alive, I'm not immortally powerful. I make mistakes. I'll die." Emma snapped.

There was a long silence after her words.

"I'm giving this my all, sir. I want to be someone you remember if you get out alive." She added softly. "But right now, I'm tired and my legs hurt."

"Right. We can't stay here, we need to get above ground." Alfred pushed past her and walked up the stairs.

"...Right, I apologize, sir…"

Their trip up the stairs was strangely uneventful except for the increasing chill, which was relieving at first, but it soon became stressfully cold. Wifi was fine, although his fur, used to the heat, was rather thin. Unfortunately, both Emma and Alfred were starting to get uncomfortable.

"Take your jacket, sir." Emma had said this a couple of times, and she was now carrying the jacket she had stuffed into her backpack for him in her arms.

"No, I don't need it." Alfred replied stubbornly.

"Alright."

They made it to a door that said 'Ground Level' and Alfred took a deep breath as he rested his hand on the handle.

"Better to rip off the band-aid then pull it off slowly." Emma muttered seriously, putting her hand over his and pushing the door open.

The first thing they noticed was the smoke. Emma had only opened the door a couple of inches, but thick grey tendrils seeped through the opening. Alfred inhaled a little, and broke into a coughing fit. He immedately brought his shirt up to his mouth, letting out a few more hacks before breaking off with a deep breath.

"Don't breathe." He whispered to Emma, who had already armed herself with a bandana. It wasn't the best, but it was good enough. She was more worried about Wifi.

"Wifi?" She muttered. "Wifi, where are…"

Emma opened the door completely, looking around frantically. "Wifi!"

The last thing she felt before numbness was something painful cracking into the back of her skull.

Emma woke up to an itchy throbbing in her head and the rest of her body feeling very, very cold. She didn't open her eyes, it was too much work. She didn't even move. Her whole body felt limp, tired, any adrenaline that had powered her fighting spirit before was gone.

"Sir…?" Emma felt her lips move, just barely. She felt like she was being frozen into a black of ice.

"Emmy?" She heard Alfred's voice, surprised and with a hint of happiness.

"...Emmy?" Slowly she opened her eyes to a wall of dirty and yellowing beige tile. "Is that my name now?" Her head still hurt holy hell, but she would survive. It felt a little numb in the cold, honestly.

"Here." Alfred ignored her question, and Emma felt a layer of weightless warmth surround her. "Take the emergency blanket, I have the coat you packed."

"It's cold."

"...," Alfred paused. "Yeah, I know."

"What happened?" Emma wrapped the thin plastic blanket farther around her. "Where are we?"

"We're in the single bathroom in an abandoned gas station that's still in not-half-bad shape, in a rural area on the edge of New Jersey." He explained.

"Okay, wow. How long have I been out?"

"Two days."

"Where's my cat?"

"I don't know."

"...What the fuck happened?"

"You got knocked out by one of those Asian guys. Don't ask me how there was any survivors, I have no idea. But there was five to ten of them left, and no sign of your cat, and I didn't hold out too long.

"I've got a nasty gash in my back, like yours. Yours is healing, though, so don't worry. It's all scabbed over, and I've been cleaning it. And I don't think my wounds were very deep, because I can't feel it at all."

"Why are we here, though? In the…bathroom?"

"This - the gas station - was their base."

"Oh," Emma muttered. "And...you haven't seen Wifi."

"No...I'm sorry."

"It's okay, sir." She smiled at him. "It'll be fine. One last question- why is it so damn cold…?"

"I don't know, honestly. It was freezing when we got out. And...right now...it's snowing. There's 3 feet out there, I swear. I locked up the whole place, but all the appliances don't work, and most of the food is bad. Some of it is still good, though." Alfred explained.

"Oh. That's strange." Emma sighed and sat up sluggishly. "Here, sir, let me see your back. Just in case."

"Alright."

Emma walked over to where Alfred was sitting, pulling off the jacket and his shirt up and gasped, her eyes wide and her hand shaking a little as she went to touch his now exposed back.

"What's wrong?" Alfred asked curiously.

"Eh…," Emma's eyes scanned his back in horror. Purple and blue bruises covered it, with three or four long, deep red cuts that were oozing with pus and infection. His skin felt cold and dead under her touch. "These...your back is…"

"What?"

"Your wounds are infected, sir." She frowned. "Did...did you take any medicine, or even try cleaning them?"

"Infected…? How? I can't feel anything!"

"Did you take any sort of medicine?"

Alfred paused a moment. "Yeah, it hurt a lot, and I found some stuff out there." He motioned to the door. "So I took it. I wasn't sure how much, so I just took a lot of it because I was in a lot of pain."

"You...I think you must have overdosed, sir." Emma stood up and rolled her shoulders, wincing at how sore they were. Her headache was bad, but she could deal with it. "I'll go out and see if there's anything I can clean them out with."

"Be careful." Alfred warned.

"I will be. The coat, please. You can have the blanket." She shivered slightly and took the coat, handing him the blanket. Alfred handed Emma her gun and she stroked the metal a little, realizing how cold it was.

Ah well, it'll warm up.

"I'll be right back, sir."

"H-Ha ha, yeah."

She pulled on the handle, shivering as a fresh wave of cold air hit her face. The gas station was in incredibly good condition. There appeared to have been a small fire in the part of the store that had fuel and car parts, but other than that, the food seemed mostly untouched, although Emma didn't doubt that most of it was spoiled.

Emma scanned the shelves, finding all sorts of useless things. Phone chargers. Travel guides. Even some old and crappy flip-phones.

Next to a few old bags of chips, she found basic first-aid stuff, but there was hardly any left, and if you weren't looking closely, it would be easy to miss.

"Damn." Emma took a few rolls of gauze and some hydrogen peroxide. Suddenly, she heard a loud knock on the door.

Suspicious, she raised her gun and slowly advanced to the glass doors, where she finally saw the extent of the snow for herself. It was a true blizzard; there was at least, as Alfred had said, three feet of snow. And standing right outside was a girl with pale skin and long straight white-blonde hair.

"Who are you?" Emma said, hoping whoever it was could hear through the glass.

"My name is Natalya." The girl said with a thick Russian accent. "I don't have anywhere to go."

"Why should I trust you?" Emma lowered the nose of her rifle down nonetheless.

"Let her in, Emma."

Emma heard Alfred speaking from behind her and turned around.

"You know her, sir?"

Alfred paused for a long time.

"Yes."


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry I haven't updated, I've been super busy! Thank you for reading 3

"So, how did you get here in the first place?" Alfred poked Natalya in the shoulder. Emma narrowed her eyes a little. They seemed to know each other well, but neither of them seemed very fond of the other.

"It's not your concern, idiot country." Natalya mumbled. She was wearing a navy blue dress that was soaked through with cold snow and ice.

"How do you guys know each other?" Emma asked quietly. Still skeptical of her sudden appearance.

"We've occasionally talked to each other at World Meetings. I am the personification of Belarus," Natalya said with a bored expression, "though, we've never gotten along very well."

"We would but your obsession with your brother and the fact that you think that me and him were in a 'romantic relationship' kinda creeped me out." Alfred snapped at her.

"Don't you even start." Natalya growled.

"I got the point." Emma said quickly,

"Ugh." Alfred sighed and wiped his forehead of the nonexistent sweat with the back of one hand. "Well…" They had moved out of the bathroom(Natalya had outright rejected the thought) and were now sitting in one of the aisles. Emma was bandaging Alfred's back.

"Hold still, this might hurt. Or not, actually, because you can't feel it anyways." Emma soaked a corner of her bandana in hydrogen peroxide(how it didn't catch on fire during the heat, she didn't know) and wiped it around the edges of his wounds. Her head was fuzzy and aching, but it was a little clearer now.

Natalya watched in silence as Emma poured a good amount in the cuts themselves and the telltale white foam of bacteria and infection bubbled up, shrouding Alfred's upper back in white and making him let out a low hiss.

"Damn, son," Emma said jokingly, earning a short laugh from Alfred. Natalya didn't even smile.

"I felt that,"

"Sorry, I'm trying to be gentle, but I poured a hell of a lot of this stuff on there, so you probably won't feel much else-"

"He needs stitches." Natalya spoke up in a flat tone.

"We don't have anything for that," Emma said quietly.

"I know."

"Uh, okay. Anything else you suggest?"

"Here." Natalya removed Alfred's shirt completely and picked up a box of small barbie band-aids. Emma moved out of the way to let her work.

Natalya arranged the band-aids so that the sticky parts brung the edges of one of the cuts together, but it wasn't strong enough, so she put another few until it stayed.

"Most of the other ones are melted together. I'm sorry." Emma said as Natalya searched for another one.

"It's fine. We can use the gauze for the rest." Natalya took the roll of gauze and winded it around Alfred's chest several times until it covered the other two wounds.

"T-Thanks." Alfred coughed uncomfortably. He wasn't used to having girls touching him, if even for serious reasons. "What now?"

"We should stay in here…" Emma murmured.

"Until what? Until we die?" Natalya snapped. "No, we have to get out. I need to find my family. I'm only helping you guys because I needed a place to stay."

"'A place to stay,'" Alfred snorted, pulling his shirt back on. "This hardly counts."

"It's better than out there."

"Facts, Natalya." Alfred said in a monotone.

"Don't ridicule me with your slang." Natalya spat viciously.

Emma stared at the two. It was funny, but they were completely serious at the same time. She grabbed a bag of Chex Mix which hadn't expired yet(the glory of processed food, Emma thought to herself) and tore it open. It tasted a little stale, but not bad.

"Try." Emma muttered to Alfred, not wanting to see the two nations start fighting. She was ignored. Emma's curiosity got the best of her as she continued to watch the two bicker.

Natalya was a fairly attractive woman, about 160 cm or 5'3", but it was Her eyes that had entranced Emma. Natalya's eyes were a beautiful shade of violet, but behind the layer of irritation from Alfred's talking, she could see pain and sorrow.

Being the idiot that he is, Alfred narrowed his eyes and his lips parted for a second before he asked with a hint of worry in his voice, "Hey, are Ivan and Katyusha alive?"

The question made Natalya cringe and glare at him. "Of course! What are you talking about?"

"Then where are they?"

"I…" Natalya paused, her gaze lowering to the ground. "I just…haven't found them yet."

"Oh," Alfred said, feeling like an idiot and like he should have known at the same time. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want your sympathy, idiot country." Natalya said as she turned away, not wanting them to see her pained expression.

"He didn't know-" Emma started to speak, but got cut off.

"Shut up, fighter girl." Natalya growled angrily.

Emma looked at her, a little offended but wanted to laugh at the new name.

"Sorry." Alfred repeated. "Like Emma said, I didn't know…"

"Whatever." Natalya mumbled. Her eyes were starting to sting with the threat of tears, and she felt it as they started to well up in the corners of her eyes. She took a shuttering breath, inhaling slowly, dealing with it like she could everything else.

Emma and Alfred watched in silence. Sadness and grief had become such common emotions, and there wasn't anything that could be done about it. Alfred longed to tell her that things were going to be okay, that her family was safe and sound, that things were perfect. But they could only assume the worst.

"I-I'm sorry." Natalya's sight blurred, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Her arms shook as tears started to roll down her pale face like raindrops on a leaf.

Emma took the emergency blanket and wrapped it around Natalya's shoulders gently. Seeing such a strong-willed and stubborn person made both Emma and Alfred feel a little hollow inside. Like something was off, missing, gone.

"There's...you don't need to apologize for anything." Alfred murmured softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. Normally Natalya would have slapped him and told him not to touch her, but she didn't even notice.

A few hours later, Natalya had fallen asleep, Emma at her side. Alfred had stayed awake to keep watch. He didn't want to admit it, but he was scared, scared that they were the only 'sane' people left in his own and his brother's countries.

His brother, Matthew, _Canada_.

Alfred could only wish and wish and wish for him until he had a headache from imagining what would happen when he found Matthew. One thing was certain, though; If he was still alive, Francis was going to pay for what he had done.

"Alfred? Hey, snap out of it." Natalya said from the floor. She had woken up only a few minutes ago, only to see him on the verge of crying. "What do you think would happen if your little fighter girl had seen you? She puts a brave face, but she's just as scared as us, maybe even more, since she's only human."

"Pah." Alfred's face hardened slightly again and he turned away from her. "Don't tell me what to do."

"I'm suggesting, idiot country. And you might want to take other people's opinions for once." Natalya hadn't taken long to return to her regular attitude. "I'm not going to be sympathetic for your family, because sympathy between us countries is dead. Insane, missing- your family is in quite a struggle, mm?"

"S-Shut up. I'm fine. Canada's going to be fine. England...er, I'm sure he'll go back to normal."

"And France?"

" _France_." Alfred said the name of the country with a high level of disgust. "Francis is going to die."

Natalya raised an eyebrow and flipped her hair out of her face with one hand, sitting up a little, seemingly impressed. "And why might that be, idiot country?"

"Because France is the one who has taken over Canada. He's the reason Matthew is missing. I _will_ kill him."

"That's reasonable, I guess." Natalya sighed and closed her eyes a little. "I'm still not sure what we do next. I…" Her eyebrows scrunched together, forming a line. "I need to find my family."

"R-Right...and I need to find my brother." Alfred said.

"What about Emma?" Natalya asked. "Have you asked her what she wants to do?"

"No," Alfred admitted.

"Why not? She seems like she's not expecting to find anyone." She said.

"Well, if she was, she probably would've spoken up by now," Alfred retorted defensively.

"Well, maybe. But it's possible she just hasn't gotten a chance." Natalya argued. She looked down as Emma began to stir.

"Hmm? W-What's going o-on?" Her eyes opened, and she rolled over onto her back with a shiver. "It's still cold."

"Yes, I know." Natalya said irritably. "Do you have any family?"

Emma sighed and tilted her head down. "My family is dead. The whole town they come from got destroyed from one of the flares."

"Oh,"

"Don't fret it guys, I've gotten over it." Emma told them. She could tell that they didn't believe her, but didn't care. She didn't want to remember - remember the voices of her family. The screaming and crying. Them telling her that she had to survive, that she had to live for them. It wasn't a painful memory anymore, not when she didn't have to remember it. It was just a gap. No revenge, no anger. Just a need to survive.

"Alright. Well, we've all taken losses from this…this war to survive. But I'm the hero, so we'll definitely be fine!" Alfred said enthusiastically.

"No, I haven't lost anything. I just need to find my family." Natalya replied firmly.

"Whatever. I decided that I'm heading to Europe. It's no use staying here, and Matthew is most likely not in his country anymore. I want to see how Arthur is and I need to kill Francis. It's your decision on whether you come or not, Natalya. And even you, Emma. You don't have to come with me. You can stay here."

"I'm...I'm coming with you, sir. There's nothing here for me. I'm honored to be helping a nation." Emma said.

"I'm joining the party. I need to go back to that area of the world anyways, to find my family." Natalya said with a flip of her hair.

"Alright. We'll leave tomorrow…" Alfred looked out the glass doors, where the sky was getting darker. "If there are any days anymore."


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry this chapter is so short, it's been the holidays and I haven't gotten much time to write...

Emma, surprisingly, woke up in the middle of the night. Maybe it was the nap she had taken earlier, or just the nervous edge of the apocalypse.

It was freezing, but Natalya seemed fine a few feet away without any sort of blanket. Alfred was sleeping deeply, still sitting next to the window. Something just didn't feel right. This was a feeling she had experienced before, specifically when they were in the bunker before she was knocked out, but it was stronger now. Getting up, she started to look around. It was still dark outside, but not so dark that she couldn't see. As she checked the last window, something caught her eye.

Throught the window were two shadowy figures, standing far enough away that she couldn't make out their faces.

"What the-" Emma froze and narrowed her eyes. A chill ran down her spine. She wanted to run, and every instinct was telling her to get out of there. She went to turn away from the window to wake the others, but she couldn't unconsciously. She slowly backed away from the window. Looking out at the figures, she kicked Alfred to wake him.

"Wha-What is it?" he asked, voice heavy with sleep.

"Wake Natalya up, now. Don't ask questions, just do it. We need to leave. NOW!" Emma ordered. She could tell he wasn't happy being given orders by someone of a lower rank, but at the moment, she didn't care.

Alfred looked in the direction Emma was looking and saw what she was staring at. The two shadowy figures were closer now than they were before - close enough to see their eyes glow faintly. Alfred rushed from his spot to wake Natalya.

"Natalya get up, we are leaving now."

Emma let out a weary breath. This place had seemed like such a stoke of luck, and it had seemed as if they would have been able to stay for a long time. She kept her eyes trained on the figures. Behind her, she heard Natalya whisper something that sounded mad, and Alfred offering her a hushed reply that shut her up immediately. She didn't get up, but stayed pressed to the ground, lifting up her skirt and pulling out two knives that Emma looked down for two seconds to identify as a gut hook and a two-handed meat cleaver.

"I hit up one of the bunkers on the other side of America." Natalya said with a grin. She rolled over and crawled below the window on all fours towards the door. Alfred crouched on the floor with his gun, staring at the figures with Emma nervously. They didn't move as long as they were being stared down.

"What is Natalya-"

"Hush." Alfred ordered.

Emma dipped her head a little, hearing the soft creak of the door opening, and then closing.

"Start talking. About anything. Just keep your mouth moving." Alfred said seriously.

"Jesus," Emma sighed. "Eh, and why do we have to talk now? I mean, it's kind of weird…"

Alfred caught on and started chatting in his more obnoxious, loud voice. "Oh, just because, you know, some girls like the talking. It distracts you and others from the real threat, right?"

Emma shifted on her feet a little. She could tell that he had just told her the entire plan in some sort of code, or just very loosely.

"Erm- Yeah, it really does work…" Her lips curled into a small grin as she figured out what Alfred meant. "I mean, being so focused has it's downsides, huh?"

"Definitely, you know what I mean. Cover your right eye, it goes blind. The right eye will notice, so you have to cover that too. That way, you're completely blind."

So Natalya's gonna attack the one on the left, and we have to go for the one on the right, Emma thought. Her gun was still at her feet, and she couldn't pick it up without losing the positions of the intruders. "Shit."

Suddenly, Natalya appeared like a shadow from behind the person on the left, and Emma immediately grabbed her gun and shot through the window to the person on the right. Alfred shot several seconds after her, causing Emma to give him a weird look and a shrug.

Natalya stood up. She had stabbed the man with the gut hook first, and she had successfully dragged half of his small intestine out into a pile on the ground. There was another hole in his back, where his heart was.

"Wow." The window had shattered when they had shot through it to get to the other man, so Alfred went through and walked over to Natalya. Emma followed, snow soaking her pants. "You really did a number here, Natalya."

Natalya raised an eyebrow. "Like you ever doubted me, idiot country. I don't hesitate to kill."

"Whatever," Alfred turned. "We have to get out of here. Something tells me that they weren't alone. Grab some stuff, and we head out."

"Right." Emma picked up her bag, stuffed the emergency blanket inside, and zipped it up. Natalya was using the Hydrogen Peroxide to clean off her knife. "Alfr-Sir, where are we going now? Still to Europe?"

"Yeah, I guess, but first we find Matthew."

"Right...you still think he's in Canada?"

"I doubt it." Natalya cut in.

"He is! If Matthew had left Canada he would have come looking for me in the States. O-Or he would have gone to Alaska!" he fumed.

"Alfred, calm down. Please. Don't let your anger get the best of you." Emma said calmly. She didn't want him to let his anger cloud his judgement.

"Let me finish my thought, please." Natalya murmured gracefully. "Do you really think that if he was broken, battered down, beaten, that he still would come after you? No, he would be dead. I traveled to the U.S.A. on a private jet that was stored underground with Herac-Greece, who had been in my country trying to get a loan to fix up his, and we had been talking it over(not that I was going to give it to him), when I had recieved your message. We were already in an official building, so we both went down to one of the bunkers. They weren't secure enough, the walls started melting, but my country was one of the hardest hit, I think. Anyways, there was this plane, and it started to get really cold. I don't know how to fly, but he does, so we flew at an incredible speed that most likely wasn't safe, and we crashed in Canada. And then…" Natalya took a long, shuddering breath and looked away. "When we dropped off in Canada. It was a wreck there. No way anyone survived."

"You came here with Greece?" Alfred said incredulously. "Since when are you two friends?"

"He's calm and a hard worker, despite what people think about him. We've formed a bit of a bond." Natalya mumbled defensively. "There's no way Matthieu is in Canada. Whatever it looked like before, it's 20 times worse now."

"Matthew," Alfred corrected automatically.

"Matthieu."

"Matthew."

"That's what I'm saying, Matthieu." Natalya's cheeks were slightly red with irritation.

"No, you're saying it with an accent like France's, like Match-eu. It's Math-you."

"...Is this really that important?" Emma cut in awkwardly. "We need to get out of here. I really don't care where we go as long as we're going fast."

"You're right." Natalya nodded and sighed. "We should get moving."

"Fine. I know a guy who had ships that he was using to get loads of people across the ocean, but my guess is that he didn't survive, so our best bet would be going back to New York and using my private jet, similar to what you and Greece did. The air quality is terrible and I don't expect us to survive, but…" He took a deep breath, coughed for a few seconds, and looked out the glass doors, where a faint glow through the black clouds signaled that the sun was beginning to rise. "It's better than nothing."

"Sir…" Emma gave him a pat on the back and a small smile. "...Most likely, no one's going to survive this hell."


End file.
